Posts Tagged ‘Love’

My boys drive me completely and totally insane some days. Other days they are the most womderfully snuggly little men. Some days I get to see glimpses of who they will become. Some days I think they look like Jim. Some days I know they look like me.

I had two “whoops!” pregnancies, both resulting in healthy babies. I do not take for grnated how lucky I am in that matter. Every day I thank whoever it is up there taking names for my sons. My world would be so empty without them and they truly gave meaning to my life.

Not everyone is so lucky. Infertility is something that affects so many people. I would like to share a little something that was written by the wife of a childhood friend.

i had a dream that died last year.

a dream of little babies that looked like Devin and me.
a dream of being a co-creator of life.
a dream of feeling life grow within me.
a dream of surprising our family and friends with the blessed news.
a dream of getting flowers in the hospital.
a dream of hearing the heartbeat.
a dream of Devin and i alone in the hospital room with an hours old baby in our arms.
a dream of the little ankle bracelet with my name and baby’s name on it.
a dream of maternity clothes.
a dream of taking pictures each month to show how much bigger the baby had gotten in my tummy.
a dream of counting down the days.
a dream of experiencing the spirituality of the delivery room as my mother described it.
a dream of having a baby when i wanted to have one.

but…
those days after the “bad” news were hard.
(that’s the understatement of the year!)
we fasted and we prayed and we poured out our hearts.
i cried and cried and cried …because the dream had died.

those prayers were answered.
and we were blessed with a miracle.
the miracle of understanding and accepting.
the miracle of gaining a testimony and a desire for adoption.
the miracle of feeling the power of the sealing power seared into my soul.
the miracle of peace.

When I stumbled across this on Lynette’s blog I was struck with emotion. Being someone who was adopted I’m sure added to it. I have my feelings on that, some good some bad, but I am above all gratefully that someone gave me the chance and welcomed me into a family.

Lynette and Devin have been approved for adoption for over a year. The wait is brutal and they are asking for help. All they want is for people to remember them. Just remember that this wonderful couple who want a baby more than anything are waiting for their forever child. Keep them in mind when you hear of children waiting for a home.

This is their adoption profile blog. Lynette says it better than I ever could. So go take a look and keep them in your prayers. They will be such amazing parents and I know for a fact that the amount of love that this family has to offer is amazing.

Yesterday I opened my reader as always and went to read my favorite blogs. I am always excited when I see that Jenn over at Princess Prose has posted. I was even more excited to see that she had tagged me for an award! I was having a bit of a bad day (still am) and it cheered me up considerably. THEN came the extra frosting on the already calorie heavy cake…I pulled up my site and saw that she had redone it for me! I LOVE IT! Thank you so much lady.

Also gave me something to post today which is also a bonus. So thanks Jenn, I super awesome love you and can’t wait until August when I love tackle you in Philly International.

However, along with these lovely little awards come rules. I’m not so good about those.

1. Thank the person who nominated you for this award. (Thanks Jenn!)
2. Copy the award and place in on my blog. (Done and Done)
3. Link to the person who nominated me. (Go Here Beeshes)
4. Share 7 interesting things about yourself. (This is where things start to go downhill)
5. Nominate 7 other beautiful bloggers. (Easy Peasy, right? RIGHT?)

So. 7 interesting things about me. I’m not really all that interesting so this is not fun for me.

~ I always wanted to be left handed. Badly. In about 7th grade I actually tried going the whole year only writing with my left hand. I practiced and practiced and can actually now write very legibly with both hands.

~I am in a full out search for my birth family. I was placed for adoption at birth and was in a NICU for 27 days after which I was placed with a foster family who I stayed in contact with as a kid. The search is super stressful, but my goal is to come out of it with some medical history for my family.

~I hope to enter nursing clinical in Fall of 2011. My ambition is to be a NICU nurse and provide support for little loves like Heather’s  Maddie and  Lindy’s Natalie.

~ Tomorrow (SQUEEEEE) I am buying a Canon Rebel XSi. I have no idea how to use it but Heather has assured me the “For Dummies” book will make me a pro!

~ I have a four year old step-daughter. Actually her and Jimmy’s birthdays are only a day apart, they are one day away from being exactly 3 years apart. ACTUALLY…Maddie and Chase are 18 months apart, Chase and Jimmy are 18 months apart and Maddie and Jimmy are exactly 3 years apart. Gah.

~ I *may* have a touch of baby fever. Thank the sweet baby Jesus for an IUD that I can’t just decided to stop taking, because mah ovaries are on FIRE!

~ I’m peeing myself nervous for Blogher…but can’t wait to go!

OK. I’m glad that is over. Now for seven Beeeeeautiful Bloggers.

Cara of Momma Says. She doesn’t blog enough *hint hint* besides…she kept me on the phone for an hour a few weeks ago so she OWES me!

Katie of Loves of Life. I love her blog and actually know her in real life through an old job. She is expecting her first child soon and her blog is so much fun.

Steph of A Grande Life. We survived the double blizzard of 2010 together via tweet deck and I will always be grateful!

Cindy of Poobou. I love her and her little Catie is my Jimmy’s birthday buddy! She also answers my stupid ass questions for me without throwing fruit at me.

Lu of Jaded Perspective cause, dude, it’s Lu.

Amber of Pacifier Graveyard. The girl just went through hell and is on the other side smiling.

Sara. 3 little ones and still manages to look at things on the bright side. I need more of that!

 

I understood. At least I thought I did. I stood in the living room of our Bishop’s home and watched him unite my brother and his bride in marriage, her 4 year old daughter and their newborn son in attendance. I knew that he was going away, I knew he had done things wrong and this was his payment.

The wedding was short and we went to a quick lunch after. I said goodbye and that I would see him tomorrow. He held on to me a bit longer than normal in our goodbye hug and I buried my face in his neck. I loved my big brother fiercely. He was my comrade against my parents, he was my playmate. Even though he was more than seven years older than me, he made time for me always. Other’s were scared of him but I knew he would never hurt me. My thirteen year old brain strained to understand the enormity of time in front of me. I gave him a peck on the cheek and turned to go and he swatted at the back of my head, which was normal behavior for us. He always had to whack at me when I turned my back.

The next morning after breakfast I asked my Mother when we were going to see him. She didn’t answer me and my Father told me he was already gone. I stared at them, not understanding. I was supposed to be able to go and say goodbye again. I ran towards my room, tripping in the hallway between our rooms. I didn’t bother to get up instead I stayed there, sobbing as though my heart was breaking. It was breaking.

I don’t know how long I lay there, hiccuping with tears running down my face. I eventually got up and went into his room, my breath caught in my chest and I couldn’t move for a moment, my senses taken over by him. I turned and ran out.

I asked my parents every weekend to take me to see him. They called the prison and were informed I wasn’t on his “list” so I wouldn’t be allowed in to visit. I cursed him for that. I finally received a letter from him, and in it he explained he didn’t want me to see him in prison. I didn’t understand the logic. I had seen him at the county prison numerous times, why was this different? I never really got an answer to this.

The next time I saw my brother I was almost 19 years old. I pulled into work and saw a huge man standing beside my parents van. I parked my car, my hands gripping the steering wheel, my knuckles white. I took a deep breath and got out of the car.

I took a few steps toward him and then started running. I slammed into him with everything I had, wrapping my arms around his neck. He picked me up and swung me around, while my co-workers watched from the windows with curiosity. I didn’t let go for a long time.

I was so happy he was home…and I’m beyond happy he still is.

Valentines Day. A day of love. A day of red and pink and hearts and teddy bears and candy.

I am not a fan.

I’m sure some of my feelings go back to elementary school and middle school when I was, ahem, less than popular. The school had a little activity where you could buy a carnation for a dollar and on Valentines Day it would be laying  on the desk of the recipient during home room.

Yeah. I had none of that. I may be a bit bitter.

From high school until the present I have pretty much had a significant other every.single.Valentines Day.

It really hasn’t improved my view of it. At all.

Jim and I came to a compromise. Both of our birthdays are in March and our wedding anniversary is in April…I’m sorry but I am just not creative enough to come up with gifts for all those holidays that close together. So we only do homemade stuff for our Valentines. I pull out the trusty scrap booking box (Don’t tell UndomesticDiva) and get to work. I spend hours making it just right.

Then he comes home with something he threw together in 10 min and somehow it is COOLER than mine.

I hate artistic types, and I hate Valentines. I am a Valentines Day Scrooge. Ba Humbug.

When I learned I was pregnant with Jimmy in May of 2008 I was in serious shock for a while. I literally cried on and off for weeks, I just could not wrap my head around the idea that I was having another baby. I still HAD a baby. Chase was 9 months old when I became pregnant. I was weaning him off the bottle, but now instead of packing them away I was moving them to a higher shelf. I was pregnant.

Right after Chase had his first birthday in July, we transitioned him to a twin bed(which he adored) after he began to climb out of his crib. Instead of taking the crib down, it was simply moved to another wall in the nursery. I was 3 months pregnant.

Fall came and with it came beautiful weather in Pennsylvania. I love fall. Sweater weather is my favorite time of year, just cool enough to need long sleeves but not a jacket. Jim, Chase and I were all in a wedding in October, and Chase was the best little ring bearer ever. Chase loves to play outside and I did my best to keep up with his 15 month old self. He had adventures that needed tending to…I was just along for the ride. I was 6 months pregnant.

The Holidays arrived in a blur of activity that year. I was getting bigger and bigger every day and my February 10th due date was looming. I tried to concentrate on Chase, making this a special time for him. I felt bad that his world was about to be turned upside down, and he just was not at an age yet where I could explain it to him. I was still working weekends as a bartender. I was 7 months pregnant.

New Years Eve Day. I went to my lady bits/baby doctor  because I felt awful. She checked me, not expecting to really find anything. She then informed me I was 3cm dilated and needed to head over to L&D for monitoring. I was 34 weeks pregnant. My girlfriend drove me to the hospital, and the looming threat of a premature birth loomed in my head. I was hooked up to the monitors and luckily sent home, but on bed rest until delivery. Chase was 17 months old and I was on strict bed rest.

January 17th. Chase gets croup and we land ourselves in the ER at 3am for a breathing treatment. I am 4cm at this point and crying because I don’t know what to do if I have the baby before Chase gets better.

January 24th. Chase is 18 months old.

January 26th. I am 5cm dilated but not in labor (whaaaaaaaaaat?)

January 27th, 2009. My baby makes his way into this world and into our hearts. Born at exactly 38 weeks, 6lb 12oz  and healthy.

Happy Birthday James Mason. My Jimmy Jamboree. The Jamster. Jimmy Bo-bimee. Little J. Jimbo Junior.

I love you.

My boys are 18 months apart, almost to the day. It has been a wild ride, one that I wouldn’t change for the world.

Watching the progression of their relationship has truly been an amazing experience.

 

 I think the faces they are making at each other in the last picture really says it all.

This past year has had it’s moments. There has been times when I literally wanted to burn my laptop and never open it again, I just couldn’t handle any more of my friends in pain. I was an outsider on the most part, new to Twitter and blogging (publicly at least) and I hadn’t yet found my “tribe”. At least not here.

However, for the three years I have been blessed to be a member of the most close knit group of friends that I could ever imagine. We met on a message board when we were pregnant with our “big kids” and have been a constant presence in each others lives ever since.

We cry together, we laugh together. We vent about our spouses, we talk about all the gross pregnancy and after baby stuff there is to talk about. Cause dood…men just can’t handle all that.

This week I have felt helpless. Helpless that one of MY girls was suffering and I couldn’t help her. I couldn’t, no matter how hard I tried, reach through the computer and hug her. I couldn’t ( for many reasons) get on a plane and go be with her after the devastating and unexpected loss of her mother.

I just don’t know how to help her.

I’m helpless.

I fell like I’ve been absent this week. Not just here, this place where I leave bits and pieces of myself out in the open for scrutiny and observation, but also from myself.

I don’t even know if that makes sense, or how to explain it if it doesn’t. I supposed I could sum it up in easy terms with “I’m in a funk”

A massive, panic attack having, screaming, crying, fighting over nothing funk.

I think last week, with my Dad being sick was just the beginning. It has sort of all gone downhill from there. School restarted, with me not a part of it for the first time a couple years. Instead of me feeling as though I am taking a well deserved break, I feel like a failure.

My panic attacks have returned in full force, with no warning. I haven’t had to medicate for one in almost 2 years. I’ve had to 6 times in the past 3 days. Luckily my doctor is teh awesome, and knows me well.

I don’t understand what is going on with my body, and with my head. I needed something contructive to throw myself into. Something to take my mind away from everything.

Luckily I found it.

April 24th.

5 Miles.

Some Tears.

Some laughs.

One preemie in my heart, and hopefully one preemie in her stroller.

For Maddie

For Natalie who I am happy to report is taking names and kicking prematurity’s ass.

For me, a NICU graduate.

It’s coming…I can feel it in my bones.

BABY FEVER

Oh gawd. I figured it would be soon anyway, since Chase has gone from this

To this

And Jimmy Jamboree (who is going to be ONE in ONE MONTH *SOB*) has gone from this

To this

I am for sure feeling the lack of baby in my house. THEN to add to the ache, not one…not two…BUT THREE of my friends are all newly pregnant. My best friend from middle school is having her first, one of my best friends from high school is having her second and one of my most favorite online girls too.

Sigh. I may need to re-think this no more babies thing.

Somebody talk some sense in too me and remind me of the four months of screaming colicky hell that was Jimmy as a newborn. The two weeks of bed rest with Chase and the five weeks with Jimmy. Someone remind me that I have a damned good chance of a preemie if I have another baby, or the fact that Jim is a total no go on the idea. Someone tell me I would just be trying for a girl and then end up with three boys and thereisnofrackingwayIcouldhandlethat.

Someone tell me that holding and loving on all my friends babies will be enough.

Someone lie to me, because there is NOTHING that feels like this